


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by just_spilled_ink



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, My 2 AM tears
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Its implied, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, and they were roomates, just that, kind of?, maybe very heavily, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_spilled_ink/pseuds/just_spilled_ink
Summary: Thomas Jefferson gets over his ego to share the fire place with his rival.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry. Writing this was a fight not gonna lie.
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pufflypuffle

Thomas did not want to be here. Not even a little bit.

Why?

Washington had decided to invite a few of his most trusted and best staff members to a ski trip and honestly Thomas could use a couple a couple days of vacation.  
The problem? Hamilton, Washington's fucking lap dog, was there too.

Now, Thomas could have dealt with that. For a few days. After all, avoiding Hamilton was a sport he took part in every day. That wasn't even where his problems began because he would have to see the other man every damn day, morning to evening.

They were assigned a cabin together.

And _of course_ the other man was almost constantly hogging the fire place and while Thomas was cold too, he couldn't swallow his pride enough to share a two person seat with Hamilton, the idiot looking almost cute - no, fuck, he was not cute in the slightest - wrapped in all those blankets over layers of clothing.

Any day, Thomas would have just huffed at the man in front of the fire place and found something else to do, preferably as far away from away from his roommate as possible. But today that wasn't an option because of all days that a snow storm could have possible hit the place, it had to be one in the few that they were staying here.

Looking out the window, it seemed that the snow reached until at least halfway up the door so there was no way that they getting out of there by today.

They were pretty lucky that Washington hadn't held back on expenses so they wouldn't run out of necessities any time soon. They were living quite luxuriously, as luxurious as a two person cabin in the mountains got at least.

But already , Thomas was annoyed by it all and on top of that he was _cold_.

He sat on his bed on the other side of the room, wrapped in his blanket (only one, mind you) while he tried to concentrate on the pages in his book but to no avail. No matter how hard he tried, how often he reread the same paragraph, the words that his eyes would see were simply refusing to reach his mind.

His gaze kept wandering over to the man on the couch. But definitely not because he looked so peaceful like that, fully engaged in whatever words and sentences were on the paper of his own book, seemingly into it to the point of being unaware of his surroundings.

Thomas wasn't looking at Hamilton because he was looking like out of a movie, a dream.

No. Not in a million years. Never would he do something like that. He wouldn't even think of it.

And yet, Thomas kept watching for much longer than he would like to admit, thankful that Hamilton's focus was on the book because he would never live down the embarrassment of being caught in a position like this.

Eventually he reached a point at which he swallowed his pride and stood from his bed to stride over to the seat in front of the so welcome-looking fire and sitting down on the free side of it in resignation.

The cushion dipping besides him was what finally broke the attention of the blanket-burrito of a man away from the book in his hands, eyes turning upwards to see what just caused this disruption.

''Oh? The high and mighty Thomas Jefferson gets cold? I would never have guessed by the way you avoided even getting close to the fire place religiously.'' The book was now resting in his lap, hands still holding it open by the sides of it.

''Maybe I would be sitting here more often if someone wasn't hogging the seat all day long.'' The taller man huffed, refusing to meet the other man's eyes.

''It's _very_ obvious that I'm not hogging the whole seat since your tall ass just sat down.'' His words were purposefully provocative, as if he was just waiting, hoping for the spark that would start a forest fire of a fight between the two men.

And that's exactly why Thomas didn't respond.

God, did he want to. But he couldn't. If they started a fight now there was no stopping them and they would be stuck together without either of them able to leave further than the bathroom.

So they sat in silence.

Silence that was so loud it was suffocating Thomas. Meanwhile whenever he looked over to Hamilton, the man looked like he had no trouble with going right back to his previous activity.

What was up with him today? Why was he so focused on that bastard?

It must be the isolation, Thomas tried to explain it to himself, the knowledge that this was the only person he could see right now. He was going crazy, for sure.

So he just watched the fire because he felt silly watching Hamilton.

Trying so hard not to lift his eyes from the point Thomas had fixed them on, he didn't even notice when the man on the other side of the seat stopped reading, began to breathe more evenly, eyes closed.

His attention was only torn away once he felt a weight on his shoulder and looking to see what it was, ready to lash out at Hamilton for whatever he was doing . But that didn't happen. Instead he stayed quiet.

Alexander had fallen asleep on him.

The man was sitting in this place all the damn time and now is the one he chooses to fall asleep in?

Of course he couldn't wake him. Only because Thomas probably wouldn't stand another minute of Hamilton's voice. That's why.

But how could a man who seemed to be filled to the brim with energy and spite look so peaceful? It was almost surreal.

When Alexander was waking up again (When had he fallen asleep? He didn't remember that happening), it was on his own accord. Thomas hadn't woken him. Yet, he still let out a grumbling noise of protest when he opened his eyes to be hit with too much light in them. And he was...leaning on someone? But, oh, it couldn't be. In what world? He knows that cologne-

He let his eyes fall shut again, letting himself dream for another nice, long moment.

Thomas's heart absolutely doesn't melt in his chest when he hears Alexander's sounds. Thomas's heart absolutely does not skip a beat when Alexander stays there, with his head on his shoulder. Thomas absolutely does not have any feelings except spite for Alexander.

And still.

He wraps his arm around the man and they settle into the position.

And as much as both of them will never hold their tongue with each other, not a single word needs to be said in that moment.


End file.
